


Naughty

by bonesmctightass



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies), Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Biting, Blow Jobs, Come Eating, Coming In Pants, Coming Untouched, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub, Edgeplay, M/M, Mind Meld, Public Sex, Riding, Sharing, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-03
Updated: 2018-08-08
Packaged: 2019-06-21 05:53:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15551076
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bonesmctightass/pseuds/bonesmctightass
Summary: A series of naughty Tumblr headcanons turned into drabbles. Want to submit one? Look me up on Tumblr!





	1. Spock is a biter

“You're doing it again.”

 

Spock snaps out of his daze and focuses in on McCoy, who is leveling him with a smug smirk and a cocked brow. He _had_ been doing it again. Staring at the smooth juncture of McCoy's neck with a hungry sort of longing. That delicious little dip right above his collarbone, just above where it curves out into his shoulder. The illogic of the oral fixation on it is not lost on Spock. And yet, he can't find it within himself to care.

 

“My apologies, Leonard. I was… distracted.”

 

McCoy huffs out a laugh at that. A sweet, airy little thing. The sound of him is just as intoxicating as everything else. Spock had to take a calming breath just to focus. Tearing his eyes away from that innocent looking patch of skin takes a considerable amount of willpower.

 

“I'll say. Y’look like you're about ready to crawl out of your skin,” McCoy says, voice teasing and full of mirth. He's right. Spock swallows thickly, takes another labored breath to center himself.

 

And everything goes right out the proverbial window when McCoy rears up on his knees and eases up onto the coffee table between them. Crawls right across the surface of it, _on all fours_ , and doesn't stop until he settles in Spock's lap. Those sweet thighs bracket Spock's hips and press in tight, holding on like a vice so he can't escape. McCoy leans back, supporting himself with his elbows on the table’s surface. The look in his eyes is downright sinful.

 

“You want a bite.”

 

It's not a question so much as a statement of fact. Spock finds himself nodding and planting his hands on McCoy's thin waist. His limbs are moving of their own accord. McCoy's pull is gravitational and they both know it.

 

And then his head is tilting to the side, barring his neck to Spock's eyes and he looks his fill. The skin stretches taut over bone and muscle. It looks delectable. Spock licks his lips absently as his eyes flicker between McCoy's neck and his face.

 

“Take it, then.”

 

Spock does not need to be told twice. He surges forward and fits his mouth around McCoy's neck. He can feel the startled gasp bubble out of McCoy's throat beneath his lips. The urgency was sorely underestimated. Spock sucks like his life depends on it, wanting to leave a mark. _Many_ marks. His breath comes out in short pants and he drags his lips along McCoy's skin to mottle another spot.

 

A warm tongue laves against a cord of muscle, coaxing it to relax. The sharp points of his canines tease the skin. It's a subtle threat. A promise for more.

 

“Come on, Spock. Don't tease.”

 

McCoy is gripping the edge of the table so hard his knuckles are going white. And Spock has tried to reign in what remains of his control, but he is powerless against such a helpless plea. He presses his teeth into the hollow curve of McCoy's flesh and bites down. Gently, at first. Just enough to coax the blood to the surface of his skin. Spock is content to suck at it, soothing the ache with his tongue while his thumbs rub circles into McCoy's hips.

 

But McCoy is having none of it. “Harder. Do it _harder_.”

 

A quick glance tells Spock that the good doctor is just as hard as he is. At the back of his mind he fears he will reach his immanent end before he is able to render McCoy naked, but he can't bring himself to care. He sinks his teeth in harder, pinching the skin firmly and holding it in his mouth to savor the flavor of McCoy on his tongue. It is _delicious_.

 

“Yes, fuck,” McCoy keens, tilting his head as much as he's able. “Good, harder, bite me fucking _harder_.”

 

Strong fingers wind themselves through Spock's hair and hold him in place, forcing his teeth further into pliant skin. Any self control Spock may have had is long gone by now. His eyes roll back into his head as he sucks, loving the sweet little gasps and cries McCoy makes when the line between pain and pleasure mixes too much.

 

But he knows this will not be enough. Not yet. Shaking fingers make quick work of McCoy's slacks and earn a grunt of appreciation as the pressure on his _very_ hard cock eases slightly.

 

“You are beautiful like this,” Spock murmurs into damp skin. Then he's fastening his mouth onto that delicate curve once more and sucking for all he's worth.

 

“Touch me, Spock, please,” McCoy all but whines, body jerking in anticipation. He's so very wound up. Just the way Spock likes him. Every press of teeth makes McCoy's cock throb and pulse out a little more of that viscous fluid. Spock can feel it dirtying the front of his shirt, soaking through the fabric and making his skin sticky. He's going to make McCoy come with nothing but his mouth on his neck to get off on.

 

When he's marked up one side well and good, Spock sucks kisses along McCoy's jaw and makes his way to the other beautifully unmarred column of flesh. And while he's busily worrying the flesh between his teeth, McCoy is panting filthy little epithets into Spock's ear. It's almost too much to bear.

 

“Yes, good, so good, just like that. Fuck, that feels so good, Spock, so good. M’gonna come. Bite me harder. Wanna feel your teeth on my skin when I wake up in the morning. Wanna feel the indents when I touch my neck, when I'm working my shift. Wanna have to stop to jerk myself off because it hurts so _good_.”

 

The whole scenario is so gloriously depraved and unbelievably tempting that Spock’s jaw involuntarily jerks, forcing his teeth hard enough into McCoy's skin to draw a few droplets of blood. McCoy shudders violently and spends himself all over Spock's stomach, thoroughly soiling his uniform.

 

He slumps back against the coffee table, sweaty, sticky, and thoroughly sated. Spock realizes belatedly that he's spilled in his slacks.

 

“Kinky bastard,” McCoy pants, lifting his hand to feel along his neck.

 

Spock simply smiles fondly and resolutely agrees.


	2. Jim's a cockslut

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jim is very skilled at giving head.

“Jim, come on! This really isn't the time!” 

 

Not that it mattered what kind of good sense McCoy was trying to impart onto his impulsive captain. Sense like not getting caught giving head in the middle of a shift. But what Jim Kirk wants, Jim Kirk gets. And what Jim wants is McCoy's thick cock down his throat. Yesterday. 

 

“Bones,  _ please _ . Just a little. I'll be so good, I promise! Just for a minute?” Jim begs, trying a different tactic. Appealing to McCoy's dominant side is always a surefire way to get the goods. 

 

McCoy sighs heavily and rubs his tired eyes. He always does that when his resolve is about to crumble. Jim decides to help him along in his decision making by dropping to his knees right there in McCoy's office and crawling in between the doctor's already spread thighs.

 

“Please?” He tries again, nuzzling McCoy's crotch. “I haven't had anything in my mouth  _ all day _ . I want to suck you so bad. You'll let me, right? I'm just so  _ empty _ .” Deciding a little more prompting couldn't hurt, Jim toys with the placket of McCoy's slacks. 

 

“You are such a fuckin’ brat, y’know that?” This McCoy says fondly, always does. Jim beams. He will happily agree to any such allegations made against his person so long as he gets a full mouth out of it. “Hurry it up. I'm due for a surgery in ten minutes. Ya got that, Blondie? Ten minutes.”

 

Always one to rise to a challenge, Jim hastily tugs McCoy's cock from its confines and sets right to work. It's already fattened up nicely, for all of McCoy's protesting. Jim flashes a salacious smirk and nuzzles his cheek against the shaft lovingly. 

 

The first lick is the most important, Jim would say. Really sets the tone for the whole blowjob. He curls his tongue around the head, presses the width of it again the slit there and lets it linger. Just enough to wet the velvety skin and get a good sampling of McCoy's musky flavor. It's perfect. 

 

Above him McCoy grunts and then Jim feels a hand settle on the back of his head. Not pressing or insistent. Just resting, toying with the strands at the nape of his neck. Jim preens and begins mouthing at the underside, sucking sloppy kisses into the length of it. McCoy always did like it wet and messy. 

 

“Y’look pretty with your mouth full.” McCoy muses. 

 

Jim chuckles and drags his lips upward towards the head. “I always look pretty.” He says haughtily. A pinch to the neck is a well deserved response to the cockiness. 

 

“You're lucky I even let you have it, you damn brat.” The wandering hand is stroking along the back of Jim's neck now. He can't help but purr as he sucks the head of McCoy's cock into his mouth. He loves the weight on his tongue.

 

“You act like you don't want to shove it down my throat.” Jim teases. He keeps his hands where they are, kneading at McCoy's thighs while he licks every inch of his glorious cock. Only when every bit of it is slick with saliva does Jim ease it into his throat.

 

“Mm, it's a real hardship,” McCoy growls, flexing his hips just to feel the head of his full erection hit the back of Jim's throat. “Look at that. Such a good boy, taking that cock like a champ.” 

 

The praise he gets out of it is almost as good as the act itself. Jim swallows around his mouthful and sucks gently, just enough to tease at the flesh without really satisfying. McCoy likes a good build, he knows. 

 

“Preciate the simmer, Jimboy, but we're on a time crunch here,” McCoy reminds, brushing strands of blonde from Jim's face so he can get a good look. “Better get to suckin’ like you mean it.”

 

Jim hums in acknowledgement before dragging his mouth free. He doesn't bother to wipe the saliva from his lips. Instead he leans in, rubs the sticky mess on McCoy's cock against his cheek and sticks his tongue out to lave at the base of it. He knows how he looks. Dripping cock making a mess of his face while he licks circles into whatever bit of it that his tongue can reach. The sound of McCoy's sharp inhale is a small victory. 

 

“Can't you delegate, Bones? I really wanna take my time with you. Don't you want me to get you all worked up the way you like? Suck you off nice and slow, edge a bit. Get you all twitchy and  _ desperate _ . And you can come on my face, get it in my hair. Mark me up good and send me on my way, smelling like your cock.” 

 

McCoy groans lowly and covers his face with his free hand. “Fuck. You're so  _ filthy _ .” It's not the answer Jim is looking for, but he'll take it. 

 

“Yeah, I'm a dirty boy. And you made me like this.” Jim teases before he gets back to licking. “Your fault I have an oral fixation. You should take responsibility by letting me play with it as much as I want.” To make his point, Jim eases the head back into his mouth and teases at it with the tip of his tongue. 

 

“Jesus. You want me to tell my staff I'm detained because their captain is a little cockslut? Is that what you want?” McCoy growls, tightening his grip on Jim's neck. 

 

Jim looks him dead in the eye and nods like the little tart he is. “Tell 'em.” He moans around his mouthful. “Let 'em see how good I am at it.”

 

“Oh, I bet they'd be jealous. Seeing how well you take it and not getting a turn.” McCoy leans forward and fits his thumb into Jim's mouth alongside his own cock, stretching his lips obscenely. “They'd only get to watch how wrecked you get choking on my cock. You know why?”

 

Jim sucks in a breath through his nose and shakes his head slowly. 

 

McCoy leans in and purrs right into his ear, “Because this filthy little mouth belongs to  _ me _ .” 

 

The sense of urgency returns with full force at the declaration. Jim starts to bob his head properly now, sucking more and more of McCoy's cock into his throat on each pass. 

 

“Come on now, baby. You want my come, don't you? Better hurry up and suck it out soon or I'll have to put it away. I'd hate to have to take it away from you,” McCoy coos, coaxing Jim along with a gentle pressure at his neck. “That's it. That's a good boy. Take it all, now, come on. I know you can do it. Get it all in your throat.” 

 

And he does. Jim doesn't stop until his nose is pressed against McCoy's stomach. The stretch and burn of it feels so good. Too much and not enough at the same time. Jim's own cock is leaking in his pants. He knows he'll blow his load without even touching it, just like always. 

 

“There. Now doesn't that feel better? Just what you wanted, huh?” That wonderful soothing voice makes Jim's head swim. He's not entirely sure how he lost control of this encounter so fast, but he doesn't have enough brain cells firing to do anything about it. All he wants is for McCoy to use him like a toy. Take his pleasure and go on his way. 

 

“Move your head now, darlin’. Aaah, that's it. Nice and slow, just like that. That's real good, baby.” Even the barest amount of praise is enough to make Jim preen with delight. “Love those sloppy little noises you make. So pretty comin’ out of that dirty mouth of yours. Gettin’ close, now. Hold your mouth open. Nice and wide for me. Let me see that pretty tongue.” 

 

Jim eases off and obediently opens his mouth as wide as it will go, sticking his tongue out for good measure. He knows what McCoy wants. For the first time since he started, Jim moves his hands from McCoy's thighs to wrap around his cock. He jerks it firm and slow, just the way his Bones likes. 

 

“Mm, that's good. Gonna come all over that pretty face. Make a mess. You want it?” McCoy chuckles as Jim nods eagerly. He slides his tongue over the head of his cock, lapping up the liquid pearling at the tip, still holding his mouth open wide so McCoy can see it well. “Filthy boy. Hold still.” 

 

Jim barely has time to shut his eyes before the first stripe of come catches over the bridge of his nose and across his lashes. The rest of it Jim manages to catch in his mouth. McCoy leans over and thumbs the mess off of Jim's face. Jim opens his mouth again so McCoy can feed it to him. Thoroughly cleaning the digit earns him an affectionate pat on the head. 

 

“Happy now?” McCoy drawls tiredly. 

 

“Very. Thanks, Bones,” Jim answers cheerfully while tucking McCoy back into his pants. He shakily rises to his feet, ignoring the wetness seeping through the front of his own slacks. 

 

Once McCoy makes himself presentable, he gathers up his padds and coaxes Jim towards the door. “I don't want to see you skulking around here again today, got it? Can't have you distracting me more than you already have. I do have actual  _ work _ to do, for Christ's sake.” Even while he grouses, Jim doesn't need to look to know he's got a smile on his face. 

 

“Sure thing, Bones.” Jim promises. “But I should warn you.” McCoy lifts a brow, the question right on his tongue before Jim's leaning into his ear. “I'm gonna need a refill later. I'm not satisfied yet.” 

* * *

 


	3. Bones likes to watch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bones likes to watch. Spock likes to be watched.

This had been a long time coming. Getting Jim to agree to join them for a one night stand proved much more difficult than originally thought. It would “disrupt the balance of their relationship”, he said adamantly. McCoy had to spend nearly a week buttering Jim up enough to accept the proposal. Naughty pictures of his incredibly sexy and very eager first officer served as an excellent means of persuasion. It was Spock’s idea, really. An offhanded suggestion made in jest in the privacy of their quarters. How could McCoy possibly pass up such a delicious opportunity? And now Jim couldn’t either.

 

So here he is, watching his best friend and his lover getting each other all hot and bothered from a chair pulled up in front of the bed. It didn't take long for Jim to get his clothes off. Spock, well, he was naked long before the captain arrived.

 

“Use your teeth, Jim. He likes it best when he can really feel it.” McCoy directs helpfully. He's still fully clothed, not wanting to distract the lovely men from each other too much. Apparently Jim has obliged, if the muted grunts are anything to go off of. Spock would be vocal, if he could. But McCoy is a possessive lover and not quite so good at sharing. Clamped between Spock’s teeth is a pair of McCoy's briefs. The pair he'd worn that day, in fact. And damn if that didn't make Spock sweat.

 

“Oh, he likes that. Bite down a little harder. He wants you to.” McCoy purrs.

 

Jim pauses, releasing the bit of skin just beneath Spock’s left ear. “How can you tell what he wants?” He asks skeptically.

 

McCoy just chuckles and taps a finger to his temple meaningfully. He can see the moment realization dawns on Jim.

 

“Oh. Right.” Jim grins sheepishly and returns his teeth to that spot, sinking in more firmly. Spock, the sweet boy, is trying his hardest not to fall apart. He's got the sheets under him in a white knuckled death grip. And his eyes; those gloriously expressive eyes are trained on McCoy.

 

“Touch his tits. His nipples are real sensitive. Makes his cheeks go all blushy.” McCoy prompts, and Jim does. He plucks the cute little nubs on Spock's toned chest until they firm up. Spock grunts something unintelligible and jerks his hips involuntarily. “Flick 'em. Give 'em a good squeeze.” McCoy says, obediently passing along his Vulcan’s wishes. “That's it, Jim. Look how wet he's getting. You like that, darlin’? You like it when Jim rubs on your tits?”

 

Spock nods enthusiastically and cants his hips again, hoping McCoy will let Jim touch his weeping cock. But he isn't going to. Not yet.

 

“Can I use my mouth?” Jim asks, sizing up Spock's chest like a starving man at a buffet. When McCoy nods, Jim fastens his lips over Spock's nipple and sucks _hard_ . Spock groans and tips his head back, shaking with the effort it takes to keep his hands where McCoy put them when they started. And he wants to be good. He wants to be _so good_ , so he doesn't move.

 

“I'm real proud of you, baby. You're doing so well, lettin’ Jim suck on you like that. Being such a good boy, stayin’ still like I told you.” McCoy praises. He always gives credit where it's due. In his head he can _feel_ Spock preening with delight. “Does it feel good? You like letting Jim play with you while I watch? Yeah, I know you do. You've got me so hard already, just lookin’ at you getting all squirmy and desperate.”

 

Spock whines and spreads his thighs pointedly. He looks so adorably wrecked already. Brows all pulled together in that cute way of his, arms shaking in an effort to hold himself up. He's already drooled through the fabric stuffed in his pretty mouth. So predictable.

 

“That's enough now, Jim. I want you to lay him out on his back.” Jim follows orders almost as well as Spock. Who knew a naked, willing Vulcan could be so motivating? Spock goes down easily and spreads his knees as wide as they'll go, trying to make himself as inviting as possible. “You can move your hands now, Spock. Spread yourself open. Let Jim see how pretty your hole is.” And he does. Spock pulls his knees up around his ribs so he can get a good grip on his own ass, then looks to McCoy for approval. “Good boy. What a sweet little hole you've got there. Just begging to be stuffed.”

 

“Mmph!” Spock grunts again and shifts eagerly, flexing his hips enticingly to keep Jim's attention where he wants it. He knows he can't touch himself, but Jim can. Even in this, Spock is strategic and resourceful.

 

And Jim's staring unabashedly, almost reaches out to touch before he manages to stop himself. “It's so small. Can he really take you?”

 

“Right down do the hilt.” McCoy answers proudly. “He wants you to fuck him.”

 

“I thought you said—” Jim splutters, cock twitching in spite of himself.

 

“Changed his mind.” McCoy returns easily. “He's all ready for you.” For the first time this evening, McCoy moves to touch himself. Rubs the heel of his hand along the thick outline of his cock just to take the edge off. Spock is begging in his head to let him see it. Of course, his precious Vulcan can be denied nothing. McCoy eases out of his jeans just enough to get his firm cock free. Then he returns his attention to their guest.

 

“I want you to fuck him. I want you to take your cock and force it so far in that he forgets how to breathe. Fuck into his tight little ass until his Vulcan brains dribble out of his ears. You'll do that for me, won't you Jim?”

 

“God, _yes_.” Of course Jim has done this before. Knows just where to put his hands, checks to be sure that Spock is ready to take him with a quick finger and a generous application of slick to his aching cock. Only the best for his precious first. For McCoy's boy.

 

He can almost feel it, the moment Jim breaches Spock's tight body. A white hot shock of pleasure settles right into McCoy's bones, makes him groan lowly with the intensity of it. It feels _so good_. Just as good as if he'd been doing the fucking himself.

 

“Fuck, he's so _tight_ Bones. He's squeezing me so hard.” Jim grinds his hips hard, lodging his cock firmly into the warm wet heat sucking him in so hungrily. Spock’s fingers tear through the sheets.

 

“Pull out slow. He likes the drag.” McCoy offers. He gets out of the chair and settles on the corner of the bed. Wants to get a good hard look at that way Spock's stretched hole catches around the head of Jim's cock. “Ease back in, that's it. It's good, isn't it? Poor darlin’. It's torture, I know. It's good slow but you want it _hard_ , don't you?”

 

Spock nods desperately and tries to hump himself on Jim's cock. He isn't allowed to speak or release his grip on the sheets, so he settles for wriggling and pushing on Jim's ass with his heels.

 

“I wanna wreck him,” Jim whines, sweating with the effort it's taking to hold himself to McCoy's pace. That steady drag is going to kill Jim if it doesn't break Spock first. “Can I? Please, Bones. Let me, I _gotta_.” Jim's begging isn't nearly as pretty as Spock's.

 

“Go on, then.” McCoy concedes.

 

That's all it takes for the damn to break. Jim rears up on the balls of his feet and drives into Spock hard and fast. The wet slap of skin fills the room and falls on deaf ears. Jim is fucking Spock but Spock is looking at McCoy like it's him doing the work.

 

It's surprisingly easy to sync the rhythm of his fist with the pace of Jim's brutal thrusts. McCoy hadn't realized how pent up he was until that moment.

 

“Look at me, Spock,” McCoy rasps, fisting his cock with mounting need. Those stormy eyes are fixed on him like McCoy is the only living being on the Enterprise. “Gonna get off watching your slutty hole get fucked open. Wish you could see yourself, how well you take Jim's cock. Such a good boy, taking it so well for me. He's gonna make a mess of you. Come inside so you've got something nice to remember him by. Isn't that right Jim?”

 

Jim grunts something that might be _Bones_ and shudders hard as he reaches his end. As soon as he empties he pulls out like McCoy instructed and rolls off to the side, left to ride out the waves of his orgasm alone. Watching the pearly white liquid pleasure leaking out of Spock's abused hole is enough to do McCoy in. He jerks his cock hard and fast, adds to the mess on Spock's ass and watches it mingle with Jim's.

 

“Hush now, sweet boy. Quit that begging.” McCoy coos gently. “You know I'll give you what you need. Go on, you can come now. That's it, go ahead.” Spock flexes, every muscle pulled taut as he spends all over his stomach. “There's a good boy. Bet that feels so good, that's it.” Gentle hands smooth over Spock's thighs and pet over his hips, helping him through the violent shudders wracking his frame.

 

While Spock recovers, McCoy and Jim redress and say their goodbyes. When he returns to the bedroom, his good little Vulcan is sat up and waiting for him. Even changed the sheets, ever dutiful.

 

“How was it? Everything you wanted?” McCoy asks as he joins his love on the bed. He reclines comfortably and Spock fits into his side like a nice little puzzle piece.

 

“Of course. I have come to expect all of my desires to be met with haste and efficiency.” Spock replies, glinting eyes full of mischief. “Perhaps you spoil me too much.”

 

McCoy just chuckles. “No such thing.”


	4. Jim likes to fuck in the chair

It takes a certain breed of human to control an Empire flagship. Ruthless, savvy, intelligent. Few have survived long enough to make it as high up the food chain as Jim Kirk. Even fewer have tried to take that power from him and lived to tell the tale.

“Warbird has been neutralized, Captain.” Sulu shouts from the helm. Probably hopes to be praised for his quick hands and unwavering precision in the face of danger.

Feeling benevolent, Jim indulges him. “Fine work, Mister Sulu. They never stood a chance.” He's in a good mood. All who have opposed the Enterprise have been defeated. Nothing and no one can stand in his way. “Steer us to the next starbase. Warp three,” Jim barks as he punches the intercom on the arm of his chair.

“McCoy here.” The voice on the other end of the feed answers immediately, like he was waiting to be called on.

Jim smirks knowingly. “Bones. Take a break.”

“Thought you'd call for me. I'll be right up.” The line crackles as it's cut off. A handful of minutes later, McCoy is standing at Jim's side. “Good fight?”

“Aren't they always?” Jim replies, slipping his arm around McCoy's waist possessively. The adrenaline from battle is still coursing through his veins, lighting up every nerve ending right down to the tips of his fingers. It makes him jittery and eager but he doesn't dare show it.

“Ah.” McCoy says as if he's solved a great mystery. “You're looking to burn off some energy, then.”

“You know me so well,” Jim says jovially, spreading his thighs pointedly. Anyone with half a brain would know what he was asking for. No, not asking. _Demanding_. James T Kirk asks for nothing. He takes what he wants. And he wants a warm body to play with.

McCoy is no different. “That's what you pay me for.” He snarks, knowing full well he's the only living soul on the ship apart from Spock who can sass the Captain and not earn a one way ticket to the agonizer. Shame is a useless emotion as far as McCoy is concerned, and he feels none of it as he eases up onto Jim's lap and straddles his thighs. “There. I came when you called. How 'bout you give me a reason to stay?”

It doesn't matter that the prying eyes of the bridge crew can oogle them at any moment. No one would dare cross them or even think about interrupting. If anything, they'll enjoy the show they're about to be graced with. Jim growls and connects their open mouths in a fierce kiss.

“You're playing a dangerous game, Bones. Don't think I won't give you your due.” But they both know he won't. Confident hands work their way into the back of McCoy's slacks and squeezes the warm mounds of flesh, just this side of painful. More of a promise than a warning.

“Gonna punish me?” McCoy goads, licking his kiss swollen lips. The little tart has the audacity to strip off his scrub top and toss it on the floor in defiance. “My ass is still the way you left it this morning. I want you to give me more.”

Even from McCoy, Jim will only tolerate so much. A hand retreats from the warm confines of sinful flesh and fabric and reaches up to wrap itself around McCoy's throat. He settles his thumb against the hollow space below the Adam's apple and presses. “Watch yourself.” He takes orders from no one and he'll give when he's good and ready.

“A little suffering is good for the soul.” McCoy chokes, somehow still managing to sound smug. The threat only makes his cock harder. He likes it when Jim is rough with him. It's enough to make him writhe in his hold. For a steady beat Jim just holds his position. Making McCoy sweat is one of his favorite things to do. When he finally lets go, McCoy splutters and arches his back in an attempt to bring their crotches together. A whimpered please is music to Jim's ears. He takes his time with the placket of McCoy's slacks. By the time the zipper comes down, he's reverted to the needy little slut he always is when they're hidden away in their quarters.

“Up,” Jim orders, punctuating it with a harsh spank to McCoy's ass. The rush to comply makes Jim huff out a laugh. Soon the remainder of the uniform has joined the science blues on the deck. The order for McCoy to sit on his cock doesn't need to be said. He's still slick and soft from their roll in the sheets that morning. Jim wants nothing more than to add to the mess, but he'll do it on his terms. “I know you think you can control me, but you are so very _wrong._ ”

If McCoy wants it hard, Jim is going to give it to him gentle. Make him rock back and forth on his cock, not give him a proper thrust or let him move his own hips. Make him so hard and desperate that his cock drools all over his stomach, seeking and not finding the pleasure it wants. Nothing but weak shallow jerks until McCoy is mad with it— until he breaks down and _cries_ so goddamn pretty. Only when he's tear stained and begging does Jim finally let him ride good and hard.

Even fucked out of his mind as he is, the good little doctor knows better than to come without permission. Jim's seen to that. The very real fear that Jim will pull out and kick him off the bridge keeps him well behaved. He can't bear the thought of Jim coming on his own hand and not being allowed to have it. So he does everything he can to get Jim to the edge.

“Don't spill a drop or I'll have you cleaning up the mess on my bridge with your tongue,” Jim growls lowly in his ear as he finally reaches his limit. The iron grip on McCoy's hips keeps him still until he's good and full. Two loads so far, and the day's not over. Jim will have more for him later.

“I won't, I swear. Can I come now? _Please_ , Jim, let me come, please.” McCoy begs, still furiously riding his cock.

Sated and blissful, Jim nods his assent. McCoy never needs much encouragement. He comes all over the front of Jim's uniform and Jim finds that he's entirely unbothered by the mess. A gentle nudge and McCoy slides off his lap onto the floor, completely boneless. Jim likes him best at his feet. Reminds his boy not to get too lippy. Reminds him who he belongs to.

“Sit there and behave for a while. I'm not finished with you yet.” McCoy grins lazily and flops his head onto Jim's knee. It's such a power trip, looking down at the fucked out man staring back at him just waiting for more.

Jim settles back into his chair, looking every bit as regal as he feels. And as he watches the stars pass he finds pleasure in sifting his hand through McCoy's sweaty hair.

Yeah. It's good to be king.


End file.
